


Burning the Candle

by Cowboy_Sneep_Dip



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Glove Kink, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing, Threesome - F/F/F, Trans Female Character, trans!catherine, trans!shamir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-23 11:00:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23177074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cowboy_Sneep_Dip/pseuds/Cowboy_Sneep_Dip
Summary: "The new professor? Well, she’s quiet, but I don’t think that’d surprise you. She’s nice enough, and has a bit of a playful streak.”“I wouldn’t mind playing with her myself,” Catherine murmurs.Shamir’s lips curve into a smile. “She’s staring again.”“How about a bet?”“A bet?” Shamir raises an eyebrow.
Relationships: Catherine/My Unit | Byleth/Shamir Nevrand, Catherine/Shamir Nevrand
Comments: 5
Kudos: 114





	Burning the Candle

Catherine grins into the rim of her drink. “She’s staring again.”

Shamir idly scrapes a fork across her plate. She’s resting on one elbow, disinterestedly finishing up the last remnants of her dinner - that is, the parts Shamir hadn’t ‘tasted’. Without moving her head, she rolls her eyes up. 

As promised, the new professor is staring. She’s sitting at the opposite end of the mess hall, alone. She catches Shamir’s eyes for just a second, blushes, and tips her face down into her own food, aggressively trying not to make eye contact. Shamir snorts. 

“Wow, she’s not even subtle about it.”

“I mean, look at her,” Catherine says between swigs of ale. “Probably hard to look surreptitious with those big blue eyes.”

“Oh, a big word.”

Catherine scowls and shoves her partner lightly. “Oh, hush.

“Make me.”

“You know, talking like that would have a lot more weight if you didn’t look so bored.” 

“Sorry, habit.” Shamir sits up straighter. She finishes up the last vestiges of her dinner before picking up hers and Catherine’s plates to neatly stack on a tray for ease of transportation. “Have you spent much time with her?”

“With the professor?” Catherine drains her drink and sets the empty cup on the table. “A bit. We’ve done some training exercises with the kids, and there was that nasty business with Lonato, but we didn’t spend much time together during that operation.”

“Probably for the best.”

Catherine nods somberly. “What about you?” 

Shamir shrugs. “We’ve spent some time together practicing archery. She’s been trying to learn so she can better teach one of her students.” 

“Is she as weird up close?”

Shamir can’t hide her surprise at the phrasing. “Well, she’s quiet, but I don’t think that’d surprise you. She’s nice enough, and has a bit of a playful streak.”

“I wouldn’t mind playing with her myself,” Catherine murmurs. 

Shamir’s lips curve into a smile. “She’s staring again.” 

“How about a bet?” 

“A bet?” Shamir raises an eyebrow. 

-

“Still burning the candle at both ends, professor?” 

“Oh!” Byleth looks up from her desk into the now-empty classroom. Moonlight comes through the window in white shafts. “Edelgard, I’m surprised to see you.”

Edelgard smiles and nods. “I was training with Ferdinand when he asked me to fetch a book from his desk.” She frowns. “What are you doing up so late?”

Byleth yawns and rubs her eyes before gesturing to a stack of paperwork. “Grading certification exams.”

“Need any help?” Edelgard asks, leaning over the desk. 

Byleth cracks a half-smile. “I’m okay, thank you.” She sifts through the papers. “Don’t worry, you passed.” She holds a paper up. “95%.”

Edelgard laughs. “Am I really so easy to read?”

Byleth shrugs. “Perhaps.”

She replaces her pen in its inkwell and watches as Edelgard tidies up her own desk before grabbing a book from a neighboring table. She waves politely as Edelgard leaves before leaning back in her chair and sighing. Most of the students were...a handful, to say the least. She understands now why Jeralt refers to them as ‘the brats’ - between Hubert’s ominous glowering, Bernadetta’s anxious motormouth, and Linhardt sleeping in class, it’s a miracle her class manages to keep up with the others.

She stretches and cracks her joints, stiff from sitting at her desk so long - and perhaps from her own catnap after dinner. A rattle of papers as she straightens the stack, the click of a drawer opening and closing, the slide of a key in a lock - all the sounds of her nightly ritual, followed by circling the room and extinguishing the torches one by one. 

And like that, the room is silent and empty again. Byleth yawns as she steps out into the monastery grounds, into the silence of early night. No crickets, this time of year, and no owls either. She wonders if the wyverns keep them away, always circling the higher towers of the monastery. 

It’s not until she’s at her own door, patting the pockets of her cloak, before she realizes she left her room keys somewhere. She sighs, rubs her temples, and retraces her steps. 

Not in the classroom - she keeps her desk keys separate from her room keys. Not in the dining hall, either - at least, not that the nighttime janitor had found. 

Lysithea is in the library, skimming through a book when Byleth walks in. 

Not there, either.

Byleth sighs and stops by her father’s office for one final sweep. She had a meeting with him earlier to discuss the certification exam grades, maybe it slipped out of her pocket then…

She’s hunched over her father’s desk, rifling through his drawers, when there’s a knock at the door. “Looking for something, professor?” 

Byleth looks up. “Ah, good evening, Catherine.” She slides the desk drawer shut. “Have you seen my keys, by any-” 

Ah.

Catherine leans against the doorframe, idly swirling the keys around her finger. She raises an eyebrow. “These keys?” 

“Oh!” Byleth tracks her boots quietly across the carpet. “You’re a life-saver, Lady Catherin-”

“Please,” Catherine says, holding the keys out of Byleth’s reach. “Just Catherine. No one’s called me lady in years.”

“Ah,” Byleth blushes and takes a step back. “My apologies.” Her eyes dart from the keys to the doorframe, unwilling to land on any part of Catherine’s body. “Thank you, though.” She reaches out for the keys cautiously. 

Catherine tugs them back again, just out of reach, prompting Byleth to step closer. 

She’s at least half a head taller, and smiles down at Byleth. “Gotta be quicker than that.” 

Byleth frowns. 

She had heard about hazing from some of the other knights, but she didn’t think Catherine was the type. Was this some sort of test? She darts her hand out with lightning-quick precision, but Catherine is faster. It’s a dance, out of the office and into the empty hallway. Catherine darts back and spins, twirling the keys and grinning. “Close.” 

Too close, Byleth thinks, trying very hard to not stare at the bit of collarbone visible through Catherine’s parted collar. What a ridiculous outfit for a church knight to wear. Has it always been so hot in here? Surely it’s the torchlight, or something. Byleth exhales. 

“You seem a little flustered, prof,” Catherine teases, giving the keys one final spin before holding her open hand out to Byleth. The keys rest in the palm of her glove. 

Byleth stares, uncertain, and her gaze flickers between the keys and Catherine’s playful blue eyes.

Catherine nods.

Byleth darts her hand out and snatches the keys, surprised at the lack of Catherine’s resistance. 

“Am I really so scary?” 

Byleth blushes and tips her face down. “Ah, no, I’m just...unused to knights, I think.”

“Ah, yes, you were a merc, right?” Catherine visible relaxes, loosening her stance. “Just like my partner.” She laughs. “Your kind are always so uptight.” 

“Well, this is all still pretty new to me.” 

“I understand,” Catherine says. She rests a gentle hand on Byleth’s shoulder. “The way I see it, we’re coworkers. So never hesitate to come to me for anything, okay?” 

Byleth’s blush deepens. Her tongue feels thick and heavy in her mouth. Catherine is too close in the cramped hallway. Her hand is still draped on Byleth’s shoulders, and her fingers seem to slip lower, over the patch of skin between her collar and breasts. 

“Anything,” Catherine repeats, her voice low and breathy.

Byleth’s face feels like it’s on fire. Catherine can surely smell her nervous sweat from this distance. She sucks in a breath and stumbles backwards, away from Catherine’s hand. 

Arms hook around her waist from behind and pull her back into an embrace. And suddenly there’s the tickle of lips against her ear. “Best watch your step, professor.” 

“Ah, Sh-Shamir,” Byleth stammers, the voice instantly recognizable. 

“Now that’s just cheating,” Catherine says, cocking her head to the side and stepping closer.

Byleth almost shrinks back, the crimson color of her face deepening. “I-”

“Besides, you should be more polite than that,” Catherine chastises Shamir, putting a hand on her partner’s, just at Byleth’s waist. “We wouldn’t want to scare our new professor off.”

“Mm, I don’t think we need to worry about that,” Shamir says quietly before burrowing her face against the crook of Byleth’s neck from behind. “You’re not going anywhere, are you?”

Byleth stares at Catherine, and back at Shamir. For once, she’s grateful. If she had a heartbeat, surely it’d be thumping loud enough for the other women to hear. 

“Maybe she just doesn’t have much experience,” Catherine suggests, drawing closer, tracing her fingers over the smooth skin of Byleth’s stomach.

“It’s a lonely life, being a mercenary,” Shamir agrees. 

“You can touch me, if you want,” Catherine murmurs. “I’ve seen the way you stare at me.”

“At both of us,” Shamir whispers into Byleth’s ear. 

Byleth stammers, unable to get her mouth to form a coherent response. Her usual attentiveness is gone, melted under the heat of two bodies so close to hers, hands on her waist, fingers brushing her soft, delicate flesh. She exhales a shaky breath. 

“You can kiss me,” Catherine says softly, tipping her face down.

Byleth lifts her own chin, guided by the assurance of Catherine’s gloved hand. 

Her lips are softer than Byleth would have imagined. She had thought knights would feel dry and harsh, chapped lips or the taste of blood in their mouths. But there’s none of that - soft, wet lips and a quiet gasp as Byleth exhales into her mouth.

Catherine slips one hand up, running it through Byleth’s hair and grabbing a fistful, keeping their lips pinned together as the other hand dances across the waistband of her pants. 

Behind her, Shamir presses her lips to Byleth’s ear, and then bites, her teeth nipping at the delicate flesh. Byleth lets slip another soft groan, startled. 

“She bites,” Catherine says, through a grin as she pulls back. 

As if on cue, Shamir tilts her head down and sinks her teeth into the flesh of Byleth’s neck, prompting another sharp gasp from the professor. Shamir’s hands holds steady on Byleth’s waist, gently guiding her back and Byleth grinds back against her. Catherine, too, dips her head down and bites Byleth’s neck from the other side, softer and more delicate.

Byleth’s legs shake as she presses back into Shamir’s body. 

“You’re-” Byleth breathes out. 

“Hard?” Shamir mutters into her ear?

“S-sorry,” Byleth says, weakly.

“Guess you need to do something about it, huh,” Catherine says, tilting her head up from Byleth’s neck and resting it on Byleth’s shoulder, just far enough to catch Shamir’s lips in her own. 

Byleth groans, her knees shaking. Her hand lifts to Catherine’s stomach - she can feel the taut muscle beneath her shirt and closes her eyes. 

Catherine and Shamir pull away from each other, the wet of their kiss seeping into the shoulder of Byleth’s cloak.

“I think she’s getting it,” Catherine laughs softly and kisses Byleth again as Byleth burrows her slender fingers into the space between Catherine’s waistband and her undershirt. 

Byleth’s hands are frantic, scrabbling, one cupping the bulge of Catherine’s arousal and the other desperately fumbling with the hooks and loops of her belt.

“Woah, professor,” Catherine laughs, pulling back. “Maybe not in the hallway.”

“Y-yeah,” Byleth nods, standing up straighter. She can still feel lips against her own and the phantom touch of Shamir’s hardness against her backside.

Catherine stands up straighter and brushes a hand through her hair, trying to tidy the tangled locks. “My office is just down there.”

Byleth nods desperately and tries to follow suit as Catherine walks down the hall, but Shamir tugs Byleth back, pressing their lips together and embracing tightly, desperately. Shamir is a rougher kisser than Catherine, and her tongue is lithe and clever, slipping between Byleth’s lips and probing the inside of her mouth. 

She pulls back, her tongue brushing Byleth’s lips as she pulls away. “My office is just over there.”

Catherine, a few paces down the hall, crosses her arms over her chest. “Please.”

Shamir lifts a hand and grips the back of Byleth’s head, kissing her again, harder. Teeth nip at Byleth’s lips, and their tongues brush again, Shamir’s exploratory motions becoming firm and possessive. 

“Ladies, please,” Catherine huffs, grasping the scruffs of both of their necks and pulling them apart like one would pry apart scuttling kittens. “You can drool all over each other, just pick a place.” 

Byleth swallows, her gaze dancing between them before she grasps the two and tugs them backwards, barreling through the open door of an unused office and shutting it behind them. 

“Oh, goddess, I thought you’d never get out of that hallway,” Catherine breathes, reaching down to unbuckle her breastplate and capelet. She shrugs off her leather armor and drops it into a pile onto the floor before stepping forward and prying Shamir and Byleth apart again to tug Shamir’s jacket off. 

Shamir and Byleth both understand the implicit order and begin undressing each other. Byleth reaches out to grasp Shamir’s belt and tug it down, pulling the pants down with them. She kneels, tugging the pants lower, leaving them pooled around the tops of Shamir’s knee-high boots. Shamir reaches down to grasp Byleth’s head and press her face between her legs, against the plain cotton of her underwear, damp with arousal, and the shape of her hard cock underneath.

Byleth groans and presses her lips against the wet fabric, mouthing at the shape of Shamir underneath. Shamir groans and tangles her hands in Byleth’s hair. 

“Cheater,” Catherine murmurs, reaching out to tug Shamir into a kiss. Byleth kneels between them, one hand pawing at Catherine’s belt and the other bracing her as she runs her tongue across the fabric covering Shamir’s length. 

Catherine relents, reaching down to assist Byleth in her futile quest to pull her pants down. She pulls back from kissing Shamir and reaches down to unbuckle her belt and unfasten the top of her leggings. Byleth takes her attention away from Shamir and reaches out to pull Catherine’s clothes off, pulling down her pants and her thin underwear in a single motion, exposing Catherine’s twitching cock to the cool air. Byleth wastes no time kneeling between Catherine’s legs and wrapping her lips around her cock, grace subsumed by urgent desperation. 

Shamir reaches her hands down and wraps them around Byleth’s head, the soft leather of her gloves against Byleth’s skin. She cups Byleth’s head and guides her head back and forth. 

Catherine’s breathing grows sharp and heavy and she reaches out to brace herself against Shamir, tucking her face into the crook of her neck and biting her collarbone.

Byleth pulls away from Catherine’s cock, her lips and chin wet and sticky. Catherine lets out a sharp whine, disappointed to see Byleth turn and tug Shamir’s underwear down as well. 

“She’s g-guh...gotta be fair,” Shamir says, grinning as her hands reach for Catherine’s cock. One gloved hand wraps around the base and gently shifts up and down, massaging the twitching, slick skin. 

“Oh, f-fuck,” Catherine groans, thrusting her hips into the circle of Shamir’s palm. 

“You can’t come now,” Shamir says, lurching and thrusting her cock into the soft warmth of Byleth’s mouth. “You d-don’t...ah...oh, gods...you don’t want to make a m-mess of our dear professor,” she says before gasping out a sharp breath. She reaches her other hand down and presses Byleth’s head back, thrusting deeper, until Byleth’s wet lips brush against the trimmed blue of Shamir’s hair. She groans and tugs faster at Catherine.

Catherine braces herself on Shamir’s shoulders and groans. “Sh-Shamir, I’m...I’m g-going-”

Byleth wraps her lips around the base of Shamir’s cock and closes her eyes, pushing her deeper, until she hits the back of her throat. 

Catherine’s hips twitch and spasm as she comes into Shamir’s gloved hand, hot and wet and spilling out from between her fingers and into Byleth’s hair.

“Oh, l-look at that mess,” Shamir says, lifting the glove to her mouth and licking it. She puts the still-wet glove into Byleth’s hair and strokes gently. “I win.” 

“Fuck you,” Catherine mutters, grasping Shamir’s head and pulling her into a kiss.

“Fuck me yourself, coward,” Shamir mutters into Catherine’s mouth. She groans and lurches as she presses her cock into the back of Byleth’s throat, hot come spilling out inside her mouth and dribbling down her lips. 

“Th-the desk,” Byleth mutters, pushing herself up weakly and stumbles back, tugging Catherine and Shamir with her as she goes. Catherine understands immediately and reaches out to brush all of the things from the desk onto the carpet. Byleth tugs her leggings off and pulls her shirt up and splays out on the desk. 

Catherine and Shamir each pause to finish their hasty undressing, helping each other unfasten buttons and clasps and leather straps, leaving their clothes and armor piled haphazardly on the floor. 

Shamir leans over Byleth and kisses her stomach, tracing her lips down into the forest of wiry dark hair over Byleth’s dripping wet slit. She kneels at the desk and kisses between Byleth’s thighs while Catherine circles to the other side of the desk and tilts Byleth’s head to kiss her. 

Byleth leans her head back, mouth gaping and tongue lolling, desperately motioning for the gap to be filled. Catherine indulges her, sliding her cock into Byleth’s mouth and groaning.

Shamir takes her time with her ministrations, licking up and down between Byleth’s legs, tracing her tongue across her soaking wet folds. She kisses her, softly, and then harder, lips desperately tugging at Byleth’s clit. Byleth groans and drapes her legs over Shamir’s shoulders, urging her mouth closer, her tongue deeper, as Byleth twists her own tongue around the hot, sticky length of Catherine in her mouth. She pulls her head back, leaving Catherine’s cock to trail a sticky mess across her lips and cheek. 

“P-please,” Byleth mutters. “F-fuck me.” It’s not a command so much as a pitiful beg, but Shamir indulges her, pulling herself up and nestling between Byleth’s legs.

Shamir’s cock is hot and slick and slender and parts Byleth’s wet folds with ease. Byleth groans and reaches one hand up to tug at Catherine’s cock, rubbing groans out of her mouth.

Shamir and Catherine settle into a rhythm, Byleth between them, rocking back and forth on the desk, openly moaning, desperate and wet and pitiful. 

Shamir grips Byleth’s hips and pulls her up off the desk, coaxing Catherine around to join them, to reach out and hold Byleth’s body up between them, positioning her for Shamir’s cock to press in deeper as Byleth moans. Her leather gloves are cool and gripping against Byleth’s hot flesh.

Catherine supports her weight and thrusts against her, her own slick length sliding between the smooth flesh of Byleth’s buttocks as she leans across to kiss Shamir as hard as she can. 

Byleth squeezes her eyes shut, her moans increasing in intensity, a fire coiling inside her, energy rocking between her and the two women supporting her, fucking her. She groans, coming, her spasms of muscle and salty wetness contracting around Shamir’s cock, squeezing her to orgasm. 

Shamir groans as she comes inside Byleth, hot and wet and sticky and spilling out from her slit and onto the carpet. Catherine comes last, groaning as she comes on Byleth’s ass, her back, her own stomach, making a mess of Byleth as she lets out a curt, whimpering gasp. 

Shamir and Catherine lower Byleth to the floor before collapsing, all three of them in a heaving, sweaty heap. Byleth closes her eyes and curls up between them, one hand lazily between her legs, fingers playing with the sticky mess of hair, the last shocks of her orgasms spilling out in twitches. 

Catherine groans, her energy entirely spent. Shamir pushes herself up on her elbows and regards the sticky mess of her own groin. She offers a tired, grimacing smile. “Gods, you’re a good lay.”

“T-thanks,” Byleth mutters, laying down on the carpet. She runs a hand through her hair. “Did someone come in my hair?”

“That was me, sorry,” Catherine laughs, leaning across to grab her pants. She fishes around in her pockets. “You won.”

Shamir grins as Catherine passes a small pouch of coins across. She holds it up and sniffs it. “You’d better not have come on it.” 

“I’m sorry, did you bet on this?” Byleth frowns, pushing herself up on her elbows and combing out her tangled hair. 

Catherine laughs. “Ah, no, just about who would come first.”

“She always does,” Shamir says flatly, pulling her green jacket on over her bare torso. She wipes her messy gloves on the carpet. 

“I do not  _ always _ ,” Catherine protests. 

“It’s the gloves,” Shamir raises her eyebrows meaningfully and feigns a whisper to Byleth, holding up her hands. 

Byleth cracks a smile and laughs. 

“Just wait until I’m rested up,” Catherine says, sprawling out on the carpet and draping an arm over her face. “I’m going to fuck your brains out.”

Shamir lays out next to her and wraps her arms around her. “Deal.”

Byleth lays next to them, draping her own arms out, pulling them together into a tangle of cool skin. She presses her lips into Catherine’s shoulder. “And me?”

“The night is long,” Catherine grins, kissing her forehead. “We can take turns.” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Thanks for reading. Thanks to @Decker for commissioning me! This was a super fun piece to work on. If you want to say hey, I'm on twitter at @Cowboy_Sneep and on tumblr @lucisevofficial!


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